


Conflagration

by dame_de_la_chance



Category: Code Lyoko
Genre: AU, Angst, Canon Divergence, Christmas, Death, Fire, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, anyway!, barista!Odd, firefighter!Ulrich, oh goodness, sorry - Freeform, sorry im so sorry, what had have i created
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dame_de_la_chance/pseuds/dame_de_la_chance
Summary: After a recommendation to visit the Lyoko Café, firefighter Ulrich meets a charming barista who takes his mind off the horrors of his work. But when tradgedy strikes, Ulrich is lost in the fire that is life.





	Conflagration

Ulrich’s life is surrounded and centred on one thing: fire. The smouldering, deadly flames are what give him his job, whether the circumstances are accidental or completely improbable. They are why he hates bonfires and fireplaces and lighters. They are why he prefers the cold even though fires can still start in dead of winter and no one is safe.

But fire provided heat, warmth. They embodied the witness of nature, that man can’t tame everything it comes across. They’re more alike, stubborn to resist domestication and cause destruction and are temperamental. No matter how much he hates them, he can’t seem to stop himself from realising that they’re similar. That the flames are him.

He was staring right into the flames, soft oranges and yellows flickering in the dimmed light of the morning. Embers floated about like lightning bugs in July, twinkling quietly. The fire twisted and flickered, madly dancing as a gust of wind came through the open doors.

There was so many possibilities that could go wrong with that small fire burning away. He feels as if he’s seen them all, that all accidents occurring with fireplaces are a been there done that scenario. It does seem that even off the job he can’t escape fire constantly roaring around him.

Eventually, he forced himself to look away. He was only third in line now, and he still wasn’t sure what he wanted. Now was not the time to let his thoughts wander. His shift doesn’t start until half an hour later; he needs to relax. 

He was here on a recommendation from a long time friend, Jeremie Belpois, a bitter computer technician. He had actually found the cafe a short while ago, having been searching for a place to study and relax at, and had even met his eventual girlfriend, Aelita Schaeffer, who was the head employee. He loved the food here even before his romantic relationship and he had practically drooled over the coffee, so the Lyoko Café seemed like a good place to spend his mornings.

He wondered if Aelita was working today. He hoped so. They had become good friends and he wanted to say hi.

The people before him quickly disappeared to a different location, waiting for their orders, and Ulrich stepped up. A blond with a purple streak barista had their hair tied into a loose ponytail, their bright eyes leering and their smile twisted into a smirk. 

“Good morning! Welcome to Lyoko Café. What can I get you, handsome?”

Ulrich nearly choked on air at the compliment. The barista was grinning devilishly, staring at him for an answer. His cheeks flooded with heat. 

“W-what do you re-recommend?” He hated the fact that he stuttered, but he was too surprised to speak clearly. The blond tapped his fingers on the counter, a thoughtful look crossing their face. 

“Good question. Looking for an energy boost or just regular coffee? I prefer high amounts of caffeine. You?”

“Uh. Regular coffee?”

“Sweet or bitter?”

“Bitter?”

“Then I recommend the Samurai. It’s dark roast and no sugar added to it except for a small amount of cream. It’s our most basic coffee on the menu. Bitter.”

“Then I guess I’ll have that.”

“Great. I’ll need a name for you, handsome.”

Ulrich felt the heat flood back. “Ulrich.”

“Pretty name for a pretty guy.” The smirk on his face never ceased. “Stand over there. You’ll pay once you get the coffee.”

Unfortunately, a different barista handed him the coffee and he handed them the money. Slipping out of the store, he tentatively took a small sip of the scorching hot coffee. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was actually pretty good.

As he continued his walk and neared the large building he wished he could avoid, the winter frost faded away as the beverage warmed his shivering body. He loved this time of year, always preferring the colder months to the warmer ones. 

There was always the downside of holiday fires, and those were always heart wrenching, but they were surprisingly less frequent then other times of years.  
He crushed his coffee cup when he was done, and was about to toss it in the trash when he noticed the name on the styrofoam. The barista had spelled it correctly, and there was a small heart on either ends of his name. He smirked as he tossed it in, feeling better than he had in a long time.

 

No matter how many showers he took, no matter how hard he would scrub himself, the smell of smoke always cling to him. Ashes seemed to follow him like a trail of bread crumbs. It was one of the worst things about the job.

There had been a fire at a small bar, and luckily not too much damage had been done. A cook had left the stove on and a waiter had knocked over some oil which erupted into a large flame. It was a small fire, thankfully they were able to put it out and no one was injured, but he’s been on the job long enough to know that they were lucky.

The frigid November air whipped at him, rumpling his prone hair and stinging his exposed skin. His windbreaker wasn’t going to keep him cozy all winter. He ought to get a new coat.

His last one had been burned a year ago. He had become one of the people he said he’d never be, and started a fire in his own home. He had put it out himself, but it resulted in the loss of a few curtains and his coat.

He pushed into the small coffee shop. A few college students lingered about, drinking various types of beverages, sitting down, standing, roaming around. Nobody was at the counter, thankfully.

The blond barista was standing there, speaking to a young woman he recognized. Aelita.

“I’ll find my name tag, I promise!” The blond said, waving his hands strangely as he spoke. The pink haired girl clicked her tongue at him, looking unamused but fond, a common expression Ulrich had earned over the years.

“You better. It’s a part of your uniform, and if you don’t wear it...”

“Yeah yeah, I think I know where it is anyway.” The blond waved the girl away and Ulrich stepped up, watching as Aelita left in a swirl of pink skirts. The blond’s eyes wandered over to him, and a smirk graced his features.

“Morning,” he greeted. “Want the Samurai again?”

“Maybe. Have any other good recommendations?”

“If you want something that has slightly more caffeine and sweet, the how about the Geisha? It comes with sprinkles and is still dark roast, but has a bit more cream and adds a small amount of sugar.”

“Sounds cheery.” Ulrich glanced at the board above the young barista, staring at the menu blankly. 

“I like it a latte, but not as much as you.” The flush creeped back up on Ulrich’s cheeks as he grinned wickedly. “So, how about it?”

“I’ll take it.”

This time, the blond came to the register to check him out. He handed Ulrich the coffee, and their hands touched momentarily. Ulrich felt the heat make another appearance as the blond gave a cheery smile.

“Have a nice day!” It sounded genuine, something rarely heard from a public service worker, which was understandable. He had worked retail once, and it was exhausting. He got fired within the week for having a bad attitude.

“You too,” he offered back, the best thing he could think of. 

Walking back to his workplace, he greedily took in the warm drink. His chilled bones slowly heated up as he walked, smiling at the hearts around his name. He wondered what the barista’s name was.

 

He was back once again, opening the door and listening to the ringing of bells. It was closer to Christmas than he wished, and an influx of holiday fires had dampened his spirit. The small café was more empty than usual, the people accompanied by the shadows from the brightly colored lights hung around any available surface.

An elderly lady was standing in front of him, eagerly speaking to his favorite barista. The blond listened intently, his elbows on the counter as he leaned down to hear what she was saying.

“My granddaughter, Milly, is finally out of the hospital!” She cheered. The boy’s face lit up.

“That’s great! I was really worried about her! How’s she doing?”

“She’s recovering just fine. The car accident hasn’t slowed down her will to be a reporter. She’s still doing her homework even with all her injuries. She's even attending school!”

“Wow! She’s really set on her career!”

“I know! I can’t wait for her to come  
home this Christmas!”

The barista beamed as he swivelled around the counter, still speaking to the woman as he went about a few tasks. He must be making the coffee. “Having any other relatives over?”

“Afraid not. My daughter and her family will be over, with Millie, of course, but my sons won’t be here. I believe financial reasons are the problem.” She gave a thoughtful sigh. “And you? Will you be seeing you’re family this holiday season?”

“Probably not. Not much money to travel to Italy with.”

“I understand.”

“Here’s you’re latte ma’am.” He pushed a drink over to the elderly lady, and she pleasantly thanked him. He watched as she walked away, a fond smile on his face as he looked up. His smile widened when he saw him and he propped himself on the counter.

“Morning!” He greeted. “It’s always great to see you’re handsome mug around here.”

“Thanks?” 

He laughed. “Anyway, what do you want?”

Ulrich stared at the menu above the boy once again, searching for something. “Not sure.” He looked over at the blond, who was fiddling with some napkin stand.

“I’m not on the menu,” he chided, causing Ulrich to blush. “But if I was, I’d be best seller.”

“That’s...” He shook his head and looked back at the blackboard. “What’s XANA?”

“Ha!” The blond shook his head. “The worst drink in existence. It’s named after our boss. Trust me, pick something else.”

“Oh.” He frowned and shifted his weight. “The Nekomata? What’s that?”

“Definitely not up your alley, but it’s my favorite drink. I made it actually, and a friend of mine, Yumi, named it. It’s a high sugary drink with lots of espresso shots. And sprinkles and whipped cream.” He licked his lips. “It’s what I drink every morning. But yeah, not for you.”

“Then I guess the Samurai again.”

“Right up!”

The barista sent a flirty wink and started to move around behind the counter. Ulrich watched as he danced with practiced grace, wondering if any other staff was nearby. The boy’s name tag was still missing; he must not have found it.

“Excuse me,” he started, and the boy’s eyes darted back to him as he pulled out a cup. “What’s your name?”

“Don’t laugh,” he warned. “It’s Odd.”

“I’m sure it’s not that weird.”

“No, my name is literally Odd. Odd Della Robbia.”

Ulrich smiled. “A pretty name for a pretty guy.”

Odd flashed a smile and quickly ducked his head away. Ulrich was certain he saw a hint of a blush flood his cheeks. Cute.

“Here you go!” He cheered, pushing a cup at Ulrich. Ulrich pulled out his wallet, watching as the blond moved toward the register.

“Thanks,” he said, handing the money over. Odd’s grin grew as their hands touched, and he loaded the register.

“I’m glad you came by. Have a great day!”

Ulrich smiled as he left the shop, holding the cup in his hand. He glanced at the name, and his eyes widened in shock. His name was written with the hearts, as well as a phone number. _It’s bean nice! Call me?_

Ulrich felt warm even after he was done with his drink.

 

Weeks of visiting gave him weeks of exchanging flirts, jabs, wit, and contact information. Odd had easily came in and swept him off his feet, and Ulrich felt jittery as he walked into the coffee shop once again. Odd was starting to make him forget the horrors of his job, the positives of heat.

Odd was standing at the counter, a dreamy look on his face as he drank out of a cup. He was propped against the counter once again, staring at a Christmas tree in the corner of the store.

“Morning,” Ulrich greeted. Odd’s eyes glanced at him, reflecting the shimmering lights of the tree.

“Hello!” He greeted, excited. “Christmas is tomorrow! Can you believe it?”  
Ulrich laughed. “Tell me you don’t still believe in Santa Claus.”

“I can poison your drink at anytime,” Odd warned in a sing song voice. “And of course not. No need to hate on someone’s Christmas spirit, Scrooge.”

“Okay, okay.” Ulrich put his hands up. “Whatever.”

“And since it’s near Christmas.” Odd’s eyes looked mischievous, gleaming. “I think you owe me a present.”

“What?”

“My shift is over at eight,” he continued. “When do you get off?”

“Not until ten.”

“Then how about we hang out on Christmas? I’d make a great gift.” He hesitated. “Unless you’re busy, with family, ya know?”

“No, I’m not.” Ulrich smiled softly as a Cheshire grin flirted across Odd’s face. “I guess you don’t?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “My family is in Italy. And trust me, it’s better that I’m here.”

“Me too. Mine’s here but we’re from Germany.” He checked the time before continuing. “Where do you want to met up at?”

“My house? I’ll give you the address.”

“That sounds great.”

Odd leaned against the counter, leering into Ulrich at a close space. He winked. “Did you really come here for some coffee?”

“Of course.” He laughed. “I’m really going to need it.”

“One Samurai coming up, Stern.”

Ulrich laughed as Odd twirled around the small space, pulling out a cup to start the order. He would have to thank Jeremie for recommending this shop. Hell, he’d name his first born after him.

Odd handed him a coffee cup, this one with cream art. It was a simple heart, but with the added wink of Odd’s eyes, it melted his own heart. He felt his cheeks heating up as he shakily opened his wallet. 

“So what do you do?” Odd asked, glancing around to make sure the other costumers were content. “You have a shift. What’s your job?”

“I’m a firefighter.” He hated the amazed look Odd gave him. He didn’t deserve it.  
Odd looked surprised. “You look really young.”

“I guess so. I’m twenty-two. You?”

“Twenty-one.” He sighed. “I’m still in college, yeah? So that’s why I have this part time job.”

“Whatcha studying to be?”

“A fashion designer.” He grinned. “I love clothes, I love fashion.”

Ulrich grinned back. “Awesome. On break?”

“Yep. So I’ll be free tomorrow.” He gave him a sweet smile. “Until then.”

“Until then.”

Ulrich grinned as he exited the small café, a warm feeling inside him that wasn’t caused by the coffee. There was a pep in his step that wasn’t there before, and he felt more happy than he had in a while. Facing the nightmare that is fire won’t be so bad if it meant he’ll see the blond barista soon.

 

On Christmas Day, Ulrich had to come in. It was only for half a shift, thankfully, and he’ll still have time to get over to Odd’s, but he hated it. Who wants to spend Christmas working?

Of course, his job was rewarding in its own way. He wouldn’t give it up so as long as he could still help families and friends and save people from simple accidents or mistakes. But it was still taxing, it was still scary, and it will always leave him with a great disdain for fire.

He frowned as heard the radio, listening to the alarm. He and a coworker nodded at each other before slipping to the poles, sliding down into the garage. A fire had been reported, and it was massive.

As he pulled on his equipment with practised ease, he wondered who’s home or business it was. He wondered what had happened. A mistake? And accident? And event out of their control? Or the work of an arsonist (he hated them. How could they purposely ruin people’s lives with that dangerous flame?). 

He jumped into the fire truck, the bright red vehicle moving as his partner started the engine. He picked up the radio, listening to a rather frantic officer.

“There’s been a fire at Magenta Street and Broadway Avenue. Massive. Ambulance is on its way. It’s unknown if anyone is home.”

They sped down the familiar roads, their siren wailing loudly as they rushed to the scene. Bright lights flickered around them, specks of Christmas decorations passing by. He gripped the radio hard until his knuckles turned white.

They arrived quicker than anticipated, and Ulrich became reminded once again of why fire was a monster. A small house was acting like a bonfire, orange flames licking and flicking in the howling wind. The entire building was covered in soot and was starting to crumble, the blackened support beam ready to break. 

Embers littered down around them, twinkling in the late evening. Ashes were scattered about, reminding him of Pompeii. The flames darted about, taunting, waiting to be attacked.

“A neighbour called 911 after they reported hearing a loud bang,” a police officer informed. “We think it was a gas leak. You can definitely smell it. We think someone may be home.”

Ulrich nodded, and the firemen loaded off of the truck, preparing to change in to check for life while the others stayed to put it out. However, as they surged forward, an eardrum shattering band sliced through the air as the windows suddenly shattered. The house practically exploded at this point, fire shooting out as the house tumbled. 

Ulrich watched at the monster consumed the house, flickering and dancing in the darkness of early evening. He watched as the wildness of nature conquered yet another home, another house lost. 

He hated fire.

 

After hours of hard labour, the deed was done. The fiery monster was tamed and destroyed, slayed like a beast. Their job was done. He was late to Odd’s invitation, and hoped he would understand. He was kind; Ulrich was certain he would.  
News reporters flooded the scene and tools pictures, cameras rolling. It was certain to make the local news, the tragedy that was a fire on Christmas Day.

A neighbour was being interviewed by a police officer, and as he waited for dismissal, he leaned against the fire truck, quietly listening. Others were scouring the remains of the building, hoping to find absolutely nothing, no human remains, to prove that the owner was out of town for the holidays or that they’re just running errands. He hoped to God they were alright.

“Can you identify who lives here?” A officer asked, politely speaking to a young lady.

She nodded. “Oh yes. We had a one night stand together once. He chickened out. I’ll never forget him.”

Ulrich restrained himself from giggling. What a stud he must have been, chickening out of being with a pretty lady.

“His name was Odd Della Robbia. His car is here, so I’m certain he was inside. I heard him singing to Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You not long before the explosion. Couldn’t be less than fifteen minutes before.”

Ulrich felt his stomach roar. His heart dropped, and he felt the need to throw up. Odd wasn’t...

He didn’t have his phone in him to check the address. Magenta and Broadway were extremely familiar to him though. Maybe there was another Odd Della Robbia. Oh God...

“Yeah, Odd definitely lived there,” another voice chimes in. It was a male, and he was standing next to the lady. “I live across the street from him. If his car is here, then he certainly is too.”

Ulrich wanted to scream. He rushed away from the truck, away from the neighbours who didn’t seem that concerned, away from the kind officer, and toward the mess. He ran first into the scene, running toward a random police officer who was standing in the rubble.

He grabbed him by the shoulders, frantically looking at him as the officer stared at him in surprise. “Have you found a body? Have you found anyone?”

The officer’s lips pursed into a line. “Sir, what are you-“

“Please! Answer me! Please!”

“No. We have not. Although we have reason to believe we will be finding one soon. The owner was reported to be home.” The officer looked worried. “Are you-“

Ulrich didn’t wait to listen to anything. He sprinted as hard as he could, away from the scene, away from the police tape and trucks and blaring lights and crowds of people. He ran and ran and ran.

 

Ulrich frantically texted the blond, blowing up the boy’s notifications. No response ever came. He refused to look at the address sent to him. Oh shit, oh shit.

He was at the station, terrified, shaking as he took off his gear. Fellow workers gave him odd glances, staring at him in worry and concern. No one made a move to ask him if he was alright, or to ask why he was there and not at the scene of the fire.

They were coming back anyway. There want a point in keeping them around after they’ve served their purpose. He needed information. He needed to know.

Oh God.

 

Ulrich woke up the next day to shaking. Almond eyes stared into his, deep concern piercing him. He must have fallen asleep at the station.

His eyes widened as he realised what that meant. He fought off the shaking hands, scrambling to get up. Yumi was watching him, worried as he stumbled to his phone.

“Ulrich? What’s the matter? What are you still doing here? Did you miss Christmas?”

Ulrich ignored her. He was searching the local news, waiting for the story to pop up, waiting to see the obituary. His eyes watered and blurred his vision before he could find what he wanted, and he slammed his phone down.

“Ulrich, calm down,” Yumi chided, crouching down next to the brunet. She was a fellow firefighter, she understood what it was like to lose someone to a fire, to not be fast enough. “What’s the problem?”

“Odd...,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes. “The house. That burnt down. Did they find a body?”

Yumi stared at him, not understanding why this was so important. She rubbed his back, watching him with careful eyes before answering. “Yes. They were able to positively identify them through dental records since the body was so burnt. It was the owner of the home...” She paused, looking forlorn as she whispered, “His name was Odd.”

“Odd.” Ulrich huddled into a ball. Yumi nodded, frowning as she wat he’d Ulrich curl into himself.

She patted his back. “Did you have a connection to him?”

“He was...” What were they? They constantly flirted with each other, and Ulrich wanted to pursue something, and Odd seemed to want to pursue something. But then the fire happened and they won’t be able to. “My boyfriend.”

Yumi pulled the boy into her arms, and he dissolved into tears. He sobbed quietly into her shoulder, his wails silent even though he wanted to shriek. Yumi takes her hand through his messy hair, not saying a word, just letting her presence be enough.

He was dead.

 

The funeral was... sad.

It was much too sunny to fit the solemn mood. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and birds cheerfully whistled soft tunes. It didn’t match the storm Ulrich felt.  
Not many people actually attended. His own family hasn’t shown up. Too busy? Unable to afford a flight? He didn’t know. 

He was too angry to care.

He had taken care of the funeral. The fire destroyed everything, and so he didn’t have anything to removed Odd by. It was disheartening and only added to his gloom.

Aelita, Jeremie, and Yumi were with him. Aelita had worked with him and were great friends with each other. Jeremie had met him through association with Aelita and became close. Yumi has been friends through Aelita; they had met because Odd had appeared during their ‘girls night out’ and accidentally crashed it. It didn’t matter because they all clicked and went to the nail salon anyway.

It was so stupid. They had barely known each other. They hadn’t even really started anything yet. But it still hurt so much.

The sun started to set, and he was still standing there. The small band of friends had left earlier, unable to stand this sad sight for much longer and concerned for him. He rubbed his face.

He hated fire. It destroys everything, no matter the consequences. It kills the innocent and guilty alike. It takes and never seems to return.

It had taken a sweet and charming man with a future ahead Odd him. He was so young. Why?

He and the fire seemed to be too much alike.

**Author's Note:**

> I always loved the dynamic between Odd and Ulrich, as friends or even lovers. But yeah, Ulrich doesn’t deserve this. I based this off anprompt from Tumblr and I’ll see if I can find it and give credit.


End file.
